


Dive Right In

by breeisonfire



Series: Shutter 'verse [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison helps, Angst, Derek Needs To Use His Words, First Date, Fluff, Lydia's awesome, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:00:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek + blacklights, golf clubs, and pizza. Of course something goes wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been told by my beta [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) that I've teased you all enough with pre-slash, and yeah, it's been amazingly slow burn, I regret nothing. Here we go though, Stiles and Derek are gonna go on their first date. But first they gotta get ready.
> 
> So I just really love any and all Lydia and Stiles interaction as friends and I felt like I was ignoring Allison, and thus this chapter was born.
> 
> Enjoy and don't worry, the date is coming!

It’s six hours to their date and Stiles is _freaking the fuck out_.

It’s to be expected, really; Stiles is an anxiety filled person with an overactive imagination. He doesn’t understand why anyone would expect him not to freak out. About anything. Especially not something like this. There are so many ways this could go wrong, and Stiles has imagined every single one.

And it’s not even what he could mess up, no, his mind has gone far beyond this date going horribly, horribly wrong and spiraled into the future consequences of said awful date. Awkward pack meetings, stilted interactions, the tension that’s mostly gone suddenly coming back, his inability to even look Derek in the face, the loss of the interesting conversations.

Not to mention how Derek will probably feel. He’s clearly going out on a limb, taking a chance with Stiles. Putting the fact that Stiles is a junior in high school aside, Derek’s life has sucked. Like, on epic levels Stiles can’t even comprehend. Stiles does not want to add to the whole life-sucking thing.

Which is why this date has to go well. And Stiles needs to not fuck it up. Except he doesn’t even know where to take Derek. It’s not like he has any experience to draw from. All of his know-how on the subject of dating comes from the internet and living vicariously through Scott. Which unfortunately is not enough to prepare him for the sheer terror that is preparing for the date.

He’s come to the conclusion that he needs an expert on the matter, and dials Lydia’s number. Now that his crush on her has disappeared, she’s become like a partner-in-crime to him, and he’s gone to her for advice on other matters. There may be playful mocking, but his only other option is Danny and he’s still under the impression that Derek is Stiles’s cousin Miguel. And Stiles does not want to explain. He’s delegating that uncomfortable conversation to either Scott or Lydia when it inevitably comes up at the worst possible time.

Lydia picks up on the third ring, which is enough time for Stiles to have panicked and forgot what he was going to say to her. What comes out is, “Lydia, I’m hopeless.”

“Well, we all knew that, honey,” she says, and Stiles can hear the teasing tone in her voice. He grins despite himself. “Can you be specific as to why?”

“Derek and I have a date tonight,” he says. They hadn’t actually confirmed it to anyone, although Stiles had been pretty sure both Lydia and Scott knew. Stupid, annoying pack instincts.

“I knew it!” Lydia sounds triumphant. “Where are you guys going? What are you doing? What are you wearing? Oh, that’s why you called me, isn’t it?”

“I have no experience in this,” Stiles admits. He can almost see the look on Lydia’s face. “I need help.”

“How long do you have?” Lydia asks.

Stiles glances at the clock. “About five and half hours?”

“I’ll be right over.”

With that, she hangs up. Stiles brings the phone away from his ear and stares at it. He’s tempted to Snapchat something to Derek, something along the lines of ‘oh god what have I gotten myself into’ but he thinks that Derek might think he was trying too hard.

Oh, _God_ , he is trying too hard, isn’t he? Or is he not trying hard enough? How are you supposed to act on dates? Are there some secret rules he doesn’t know about?

_Oh, my God, how do people do this?_

It’s five minutes later when he hears someone knock on his front door, and he hurries downstairs and gets to the door to see Lydia and Allison both standing on his porch. Lydia’s looking at him expectantly. Allison looks slightly apologetic.

“Oh, God, I’ve turned this into a girl’s night,” Stiles can’t help it. “Are you going to make me over? Because if you are I’m literally going to shut the door right now.”

“Stiles, shut up and let us in,” Lydia says. Stiles narrows his eyes at her, but complies, and pretends to not notice the amused look Allison has on her face. It just figures that the day of his first date the girls are gonna dress him up. Fuck it, he’s embracing all things. As long as he looks good he'll appreciate it.

“So,” he says. “Not that I don’t appreciate you guys coming, but why did you have to?”

“We’re going to help you get ready,” Lydia says. “And then we’re going to go wait with Scott and Isaac and wait for the details when you inevitably call one of us to analyze it.”

Stiles’s friends know him so well, it’s warming the fucking cockles of his heart. “I hate you all.”

“No, you don’t,” Lydia says sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “Now, let’s go check out your closet, in case we have to go shopping.”

“I’m regretting this already,” Stiles mutters, but follows them up to his room. Allison opens his closet and starts going through his clothes while Lydia sits on Stiles’s bed and glances around.

“Wow, you really are freaked out,” she says.

“What?” Stiles looks at her.

“It’s usually much cleaner in here,” Lydia gestures around the room. Stiles looks and sees what she means immediately. Stiles, in his anxiety-fueled pacing, has pretty much made his room a giant mess. There are books everywhere, clothes that Stiles has tried on already on the ground, and somehow a sock is hanging off of his computer screen. He’s not sure how that happened.

“Yeah,” he says. “You can’t honestly be surprised.”

“Told you so!” Lydia says in a singsong voice, and Allison rolls her eyes from where she’s standing, halfway into Stiles’s closet.

“What is Allison not believing?” Stiles seriously hates not knowing things, especially when he knows it’s about him.

“Allison didn’t really believe you were serious about this date,” Lydia says.

“I am serious,” Stiles says, looking at Allison. “Very serious. Dead serious. Oh, no, not dead serious, that sounds like tempting fate, oh, God, I take it back.”

Allison’s got that half smile on her face that she gets when she’s trying not to laugh. “I see that, now.”

“So what are you guys doing?” Lydia asks. Stiles clears his throat awkwardly, but doesn’t say anything.

They both come to the correct conclusion. “You don’t know yet?” Allison asks.

“I panicked!” Stiles throws his arms out. “My mind is _blank_! Literally the only thing I can think of is bowling, and no offense, but I am not recreating a date between you two and Scott and Jackson. No way. Besides, I am shit at bowling, and I can’t wrap my head around Derek in bowling shoes.”

Allison lets out a laugh and says, “Have you showered yet?”

“Yes,” Stiles says, then decides to be honest. They are trying to help him, after all. “Twice.”

Allison and Lydia both look appreciative of this, and Stiles can’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious. Then Allison ruins it by tossing him a pair of skinny jeans. They slip through his hands and hit him in the face.

“Go put those on, then come back out here,” she says. “We’ll brainstorm while we find you a good shirt.”

Stiles heads into the bathroom and pulls the pants on before heading back into his room. In the entire minute that it took him to change his pants, the girls have literally taken every shirt he owns out and placed them in various spots around the room.

“Why?”

Lydia looks up at him. “So we can see everything. Easier to see the solution when you’ve got the whole picture.”

Which is something he’d said to her a few weeks prior when Stiles had helped his dad with an investigation involving what he’d thought were werewolves (thank God it hadn’t). He feels weirdly flattered. “Right. Okay. So?”

“We’ve come to the conclusion that you have a lot of plaid,” Allison says.

“Thank you?” Stiles is starting to get a headache. He wonders where his bottle of Tylenol is in the mess that is now his room.

“You guys aren’t going anywhere where you’d need formal dress, right?” Lydia asks Stiles.

“Probably not,” Stiles doesn’t think either of them would feel comfortable there. He takes a second to picture Derek wolfed out in a tux. It’s stupidly hilarious.

“Okay, so that narrows it down some,” Allison says. “What are you good at?”

Stiles thinks for a second. “Research.”

Allison just raises an eyebrow, and then she looks at Lydia. “What is he good at?”

Lydia leans forward, clearly thinking that through. Stiles is starting to feel very awkward. In his own room. _How._

“He’s good at taking care of people,” Lydia says, like Stiles isn’t even there. “Talking. Research. Strategies. Organizing.”

“None of that is helpful,” Allison sighs.

Lydia frowns slightly. “Stiles, do you want to impress Derek?”

“I just want this to go well,” Stiles says, getting frustrated. “If I have to look like an idiot, so be it.”

Now Lydia and Allison both look like they’re planning. Stiles wants to duck and cover.

“Stiles, you ever been mini-golfing?” Allison asks before Lydia can say anything.

“What?” Stiles rubs his forehead and starts digging around for his Tylenol.

“Mini golfing?” Lydia repeats, looking slightly confused. “Why?”

Allison shrugs. “Mostly because I’ve never seen Derek mini golf and Stiles at least knows how to aim.”

Stiles feels vaguely like he’s been insulted. Before he can say anything, Lydia speaks.

“True. But we want this to be memorable, right?”

“Hopefully,” Stiles mutters. Either he spoke too low for them to hear, or they’re just ignoring him, because neither of them acknowledge that.

“I think we should play it safe,” Allison says. “Mini golf and pizza. You guys usually talk when you’re together, anyway, right?”

 _Now_ they’re turning to him. He just looks at both of them, feeling way out of his depths. “What?”

“But mini golf?” Lydia says.

“Glow in the dark mini golf,” Allison nods seriously. “Cheap, easy, entertaining. Just picture Derek with the golf club.”

Stiles can’t help the snort that escapes him. “So we’re mini golfing. Anything else in my life you’d like to commandeer?”

“You asked us for help,” Allison points out.

Which, fair. Totally fair. “Okay. And thanks. Seriously. You guys are awesome.”

That gets him a smile from both of them, and then they sit him down on the bed and start making him try on shirts. They don’t let him leave, so he’s sitting shirtless half the time while they argue over what color he looks good in. They’ve narrowed it down to red and blue when Stiles’s dad pokes his head in and immediately blinks at the mess.

“Help me,” Stiles says before he can say anything. He’s on the bed, no shirt on, and is slowly scooting as far away from Lydia and Allison as he possibly can without actually getting off the bed.

“What is going on here?” his dad asks.

“Stiles asked for help,” Allison says.

“He’s got a date,” Lydia adds.

Stiles realizes he hadn’t told his dad. He’s been too busy freaking out to remember to tell him. And now his dad looks surprised. At least he doesn’t look upset. Yet.

“With who?” he asks.

Lydia and Allison both look at Stiles. Clearly they’re waiting for some sort of cue from him to spill the beans. That’s awesome and unexpected. Stiles loves his friends.

He takes a second to think about it, but he knows what he’s already decided. His dad has been pretty awesome about the werewolf thing, and they’d agreed that there was no more lying. If his dad is upset, Stiles will deal with it. Badly. But still.

“Derek.”

To his surprise and annoyance, his dad no longer looks surprised. In fact, he’s grinning. Why the hell is he grinning?

“Why the hell are you grinning?” he asks out loud, his annoyance very audible in his tone.

“I just won a bet,” Stiles’s dad says.

“God _damnit_ ,” Stiles says. “Everyone in my life is a fucking comedian. Who are you betting on my love life with?”

“Melissa.”

Of course. Stiles looks around. “Did anyone ever find my Tylenol?”

“Red’s kind of a cliche,” Allison suddenly says. “Like the whole Little Red Riding Hood thing?”

“It fits,” Lydia points out.

“What?” Stiles blinks. “What fits? How does Little Red Riding Hood fit here?”

“Stiles, your date is a werewolf,” Lydia says.

“I think you’ve missed the point of that story.”

“So blue?” Allison says, and Lydia nods. Stiles throws his hands up in exasperation and lets himself fall back on his bed.

“Good luck!” his dad says. “I have to work the night shift.”

“We’ll patch you in on a conference call when we get the details,” Lydia says, and Stiles just groans and covers his face.

“Thank you,” his dad says to Lydia. “And don’t forget to remind Derek that I know how to kill werewolves now.”

“Oh my _God_ ,” Stiles says into his hands. “What is my life.”

“Love you, kid,” his dad says, and Stiles hears him starting to leave.

“Love you, too!” he calls, and feels something fall on his face. “I swear to God if I’ve already had this shirt on I’m setting something on fire.”

“Derek’s a fireman now,” Allison says in a would-be casual voice.

“I hear he’s getting EMT training,” Lydia says.

“That’ll come in handy,” Allison says. “It’ll really round off the hot fireman trope. As long as he keeps the wolf smile off of his face.”

“He’s getting better at it,” Lydia says. Which is true. Stiles knows this to be true. He’s been introduced to so many new Derek faces, he can’t even pick his favorite anymore. He doesn’t even have names for them all anymore.

“Hey,” Lydia hits his foot. “Shirt.”

Stiles sits up and puts the shirt on, feeling incredibly annoyed with everyone. It doesn’t last long. Lydia fixes his shirt while Allison starts messing with his hair, and he’s distracted from his irritation.

“Okay, so who’s driving?” Lydia says when she’s done with his shirt.

“He is,” Stiles says. “For some reason he’s convinced his Camaro is better than Jeep.”

“It is,” Lydia and Allison say in unison. Stiles stares at them.

“No one appreciates my Jeep,” he says. “My Jeep is fucking awesome, okay. Just because it’s not fancy and new doesn’t mean it isn’t awesome.”

“It likes to break down,” Allison points out.

“ _No_ , other people like to break it. It has literally not broken down once on it’s own. The battery’s been stolen by Peter, who also then broke the keys, Erica took something out of it, I drove it through a wall, and I hit a tree, but it’s never broken down. It’s been through a lot of shit, but it’s still going.”

“Are we still talking about the Jeep?” Lydia asks, and Stiles glares at her.

“Don’t change the subject,” he says.

“Didn’t it break down once, though?” Allison says. “Because you were at the auto shop that one time. When the kanima was running around.”

Stiles had completely pushed that night out of his head. “That was after Erica fucked with my car.”

“Oh,” Allison says.

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Stiles feels his headache start to pound again before he says, “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“We know,” Allison says, and Lydia nods next to her.

Stiles lets out a breath. “Now what?”

“Now, we sit down and turn the TV on and you _don’t_ freak out,” Lydia says. Stiles nods and follows them downstairs, where they set up on the couch and after some argument start watching _Angel_. It calmed him down considerably, and when it's finally time for Derek to come pick him up, he's ready to go. Even if he's still a bit nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. Try nearly terrified.

It’s too late to back out now, and even if he could Stiles doesn’t think he would. He just hopes it goes well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy god the episode ended like a half an hour ago WHAT IS HAPPENING TO STILES DYLAN MY BABY
> 
> Anyway, somewhat more coherently, here's the date! This has been a long time coming, and I know you guys have been waiting a long time for this. The ideas for where they went were all my beta [whatthehale's](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) idea, and I loved it. And also, I crave pizza because of this. So yeah. Enjoy!

It’s times like this Derek wishes he had some sort of expertise with the whole dating thing. All he has is one disaster after another, and he doesn’t like to think about them. Especially not when he’s supposed to be going on a date, where he’s supposed to be happy. But of course, actively trying to not think of them brings them to the front of his mind, and so he gives up and digs a clean green shirt out of his closet (he’s fairly certain Cora bought it for him in Chicago).

After showering, he puts it and a pair of jeans on, and runs a comb through his hair. He considers shaving, but then decides against it. He picks up his phone and opens Snapchat, and takes a picture, sending it to Cora with the text, ‘So?’

He gets a picture of her holding a thumbs up. ‘You look nice. The date will go fine.’

He sends back a picture of himself, adding ‘Thanks.’ He wishes he had her confidence. He’s so certain he’ll mess something up, or make Stiles uncomfortable, or get attacked, or _something_ that he’s having a hard time focusing on the actual event at hand. Which is him going on a date. With _Stiles_. Who technically asked him first, even though Derek had been trying to work up the courage to do it.

He looks at himself once more in the mirror, pulls on his favorite leather jacket, and goes out to his car. He sits down in the driver’s seat and stares out the window for a good five minutes before realizing he really doesn’t want to be late to pick Stiles up, so he turns the car on and drives.

The five minutes to Stiles’s house feel like hours, and Derek’s pretty sure the lights are all against him, because _every single one_ is red. This makes him growl in frustration, and then he has to take a deep breath. He waits impatiently for the light to change, then speeds ahead, before turning and finally seeing Stiles’s house.

There’s a car parked outside his house, and Derek recognizes it as Lydia’s. He narrows his eyes as he parks behind it and wonders why the hell Lydia is at Stiles’s house. Then he wonders if he’s sure he wants to know. Because with Stiles and Lydia it could be anything from homework to world domination, and he wants to be able to claim plausible deniability.

He’s about to get out and go to the door when it opens, and Stiles comes out, with Lydia and to Derek’s surprise Allison trailing behind him. He resists the urge to eavesdrop because he’s pretty sure that Stiles hates that, and also, the grin on Lydia’s face scares him. Plausible deniability.

And then Stiles is heading toward Derek’s car and Lydia and Allison both wave at Derek, who waves back before looking at Stiles. He looks nervous and somewhat eager,  and gives Derek a smile when he sees him looking. Derek can’t help but smile back, and relaxes a bit as Stiles gets into the passenger seat of the Camaro.

“Hey,” Stiles says.

“Hey,” Derek replies, and turns the car back on. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“CPK,” Stiles says. Derek blinks, then nods. He likes CPK, although he hasn’t been there in a really long time. He’d gone there a lot before the fire, with Laura and her friends, and so had avoided it. He thinks it’s okay, though. He knows Laura would have loved Stiles, and going there with him won’t be an insult to the memories he has of her there. She’d probably be thrilled.

Even so, the barrage of memories as he parks the car is painful and he has to stop to take a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Of course Stiles notices, because he’s Stiles. Derek clears his throat and decides to be honest.

“I...I used to come here a lot. With Laura. It was her and her friend’s favorite place.”

Stiles looks slightly horrified, like he hadn’t meant to drag up memories. And he hadn’t. Derek knows that for sure. He knows Stiles would never be cruel enough to intentionally bring up bad memories, at least not now that they know each other so well. And that, for some reason, makes Derek feel okay enough to straighten up.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says, looking guilty, and Derek thinks, just for a second, that he shouldn’t have told Stiles. He didn’t want to make this sad. But then this wasn’t about the past, it was about the future (and wow, it feels good for Derek to actually think about the future and not see dark things for once).

Stiles is completely unaware of his epiphany, and says, “I didn’t mean to -- we can go somewhere else if you want.”

“No,” Derek says. “It’s okay. I miss her, and there are a lot of memories here...but I don’t think she’d mind me making other ones. With you.”

And for once, Derek seems to have said exactly the right thing, because Stiles stops looking so guilty and actually manages a smile. So, as they’re walking in, he decides to say some more.

“She would have liked you, you know,” Derek says, and Stiles blinks at him. “Laura. She would have adopted you the minute you two met. She was like Lydia, except with this...Alpha way about her. Kind of like you, actually, the way you take care of people important to you. And she had a big heart, like Scott.” And it’s been so long since Derek has talked about her with anyone. It feels good to talk about her, kind of like a relief, like he’s scratching an itch he’s been ignoring for so long. There’s pain, but there’s also a kind of joy in remembering her, and the way she’d taken care of him, both before and after the fire.

And he thinks if he was going to talk about her to anyone, Stiles was the right person. Because Stiles, as they’re being seated, looks sad and thoughtful, and when their waitress walks away with their drink orders, he says, “I wish I could have met her.”

He says it with an almost reverent, respectful tone. Honoring her memory. Derek lets out a silent breath, releasing some of the tension he’d felt since before he’d picked Stiles up. “I wish you could have, too.” She would have been better at dealing with everyone from the beginning. She’d always been good at that.

Stiles is watching him, and after a moment, says, “Thanks.”

“What?” Derek looks up, confused.

“For telling me about her,” Stiles says, with a serious look on his face. “I know it’s not easy.”

Derek clears his throat and nods. He’s not really sure what to say to that, so he gives Stiles a small smile and is relieved when Stiles picks up his menu and says, “So what kind of pizza do you want? I’m in the mood for Hawaiian.”

In the end, they end up getting Hawaiian, because it’s Stiles favorite and Derek’s not particularly picky. While they’re waiting for the pizza to come, Stiles brings up _Catching Fire_ , and asks, “Peeta or Gale?”

Derek gives him a look.

“What?” Stiles asks, pretending to be innocent. Derek just raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah, I know, the whole it’s not about the romance thing. I didn’t mean which one Katniss would go for, I meant which one would _you_ go for.”

Derek can’t quite hold back the laugh that prompts and takes a drink of his Coke before saying, “I don’t know. Which one would you go for?”

“Neither,” Stiles says without missing a beat.

“What?” Derek asks, blinking in surprise. “Why did you ask me then?”

Stiles shrugs and says, “Nah, I’d go for Finnick. Or Johanna. Have you finished _Mockingjay_ yet?”

“No. No spoilers.”

Stiles gives him a grin, but nods. “Fair. I really want to go see _Catching Fire_ , though.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that last night,” Derek says. “I think. There was a lot to sort through.”

Stiles snorts. “I don’t remember half of what I said, but since you’re still talking to me I assume it wasn’t anything horrible.”

Derek grins. “You said you thought maybe the pack should go see it, but that it would probably be a big mistake and we’d get kicked out. And the cost of snacks would be a nightmare.”

“All of those things are true,” Stiles says. “I still have to make Scott read the books. I swear, he does not appreciate the things I enjoy. We have to rewatch the first Star Wars movie, again. One of these times I’m just gonna tie him to chair and make him watch it.”

Derek snorts. “He’s like the embodiment of Luke Skywalker.”

“Oh, my _God_ , I know!” Stiles says, wide-eyed. Then he grins. “Does that make me Han Solo?”

“I was thinking Leia,” Derek says, just to see Stiles’s reaction. He’s not disappointed. Stiles’s eyes bug out and his mouth falls open, and Derek can’t help it. He starts laughing. After a second, Stiles does, too.

They’re quiet for a while after that, enjoying their pizza, before Stiles asks him about the EMT training course that he’s signed up for during the summer semester, and they talk about that for a while. And then Stiles looks at his watch and says, “How do you feel about mini golf?”

“About what?” Derek wonders when he’s going to stop being surprised by the things that comes out of Stiles’s mouth. Probably never, but he can always hope.

“Mini golf,” Stiles says. “Glow in the dark mini golf. It was Allison’s idea.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, then says, “I’ve never been.”

“Really?” Stiles’s eyes widen. “Well, then, we have to. There’s no argument.”

Derek rolls his eyes, but agrees. It _does_ sound like fun, even if he’s pretty sure it’ll be ridiculous. So they split the bill and head out to the car. Stiles gives Derek directions to the mini golf place, at a tiny strip mall not too far from the fire station.

Apparently the novelty of glow in the dark mini golf has worn off, because there’s only a few other people there. Derek gets the club and a green ball and follows Stiles to the first hole. He lets Stiles go first, and grins as he watches Stiles sit the ball down.

It turns out that Stiles is fairly good at mini golf. Derek, however, is completely awful at it. For some reason, Stiles finds this absolutely hilarious, and Derek, though he wants to be frustrated, can’t help but be amused at Stiles’s laughter.

“Dude,” Stiles says as he tries for the third time to keep the ball on the course. “It’s too bad you know how to hold the club. We could have done that whole cliche excuse to be close thing where I ‘helped’ you adjust your grip.”

Derek’s club misses the ball entirely. He looks at Stiles, who gives him a shit-eating grin. Derek half-heartedly glares at him before hitting the ball again. He hits it too hard -- _again_ \-- and it goes off the course. He growls.

Stiles gets the ball for him and says, “You’re thinking too hard about it. It’s mini golf, man, no one cares about your score. Most people come here for the blacklight anyway.”

So Derek tries to relax, and have fun. He’s still terrible, but Stiles starts to give him some pointers, and by the eighteenth hole, he at least keeps it on the course. He looks up from putting it into the hole to see Stiles giving him a thumbs-up, and has to laugh.

Once back in the car, Derek sighs and says, “Okay. That was fun.”

“Give Allison her props, she knows a good time,” Stiles agrees, grinning again. Derek turns the car on and starts driving to take Stiles home. He grimaces as lightning flashes across the sky.

“Rain?” Stiles groans. “Really? What is this, London?”

Derek grins. “At least it’s not snow.”

“There is that,” Stiles sighs. “Still. I hate rain. It sucks.”

Derek waits, but Stiles doesn’t elaborate, so Derek moves on. “So how much longer is _Catching Fire_ in theaters?”

Stiles blinks. “I don’t know. I think it might actually already be out of theaters. Maybe. It comes out on DVD in like a week.”

“Maybe I’ll go pick it up when it comes out,” Derek says. “And we can enlist Lydia’s help in persuading whoever’s turn it is next week to pick it.”

“It’ll be Isaac’s turn,” Stiles says. “So if we get Allison on our side, we’ll be good.”

“Are they --?” Derek trails off, unable to figure exactly what he wants to say.

“Together?” Stiles asks, then snorts. “I don’t know what they are. Isaac’s into Allison, but doesn’t want to offend Scott. Allison doesn’t know what she wants. And Scott’s still stuck on Allison. Honestly I’m about ready to suggest a threesome.”

Derek laughs at that. “I’m staying as far from it as I can.”

“You’re not the one Scott calls every time he gets in a mood,” Stiles says dryly.

“Thank God.”

Stiles laughs, then says, “Is it weird, being the only adult in a pack of teenagers?”

Derek thinks for a second as he stops at a light. “Sort of? I don’t think about it much. I mean, you guys are my pack. Your age is kind of irrelevant.”

Then he sighs, and says, “And I’m not exactly a fully-functioning adult, either.”

“If that’s true, it’s not really your fault,” Stiles says. “I think you’re doing remarkably well, considering.”

Derek lets out a little laugh. “Thanks.”

He pulls up at Stiles’s house just then, and they sit there in silence for a few seconds, before Stiles looks at Derek and says, “So. We should do this again. Right. You had fun. I had fun.”

Derek tries not to smile at Stiles. He sounds like he’s about to start rambling nervously, so he cuts in. “Yeah. It was fun. We should.”

Stiles’s face lights up, and Derek honestly doesn’t think he’s ever seen Stiles smile that wide. He returns the smile, and doesn’t fight the impulse that he gets to lean forward and kiss Stiles.

Stiles freezes, and Derek immediately moves back, cursing himself. What was he doing? This was their _first date_. It had gone _great_. And now he’s gone and just kissed Stiles. And Stiles looks like he’s been slapped. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting it, and doesn’t know how to react, and Derek is a fucking idiot. A complete and utter moron.

He sits back in his seat, not looking at Stiles, and mumbles, “Good night.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. Derek doesn’t look at him, afraid to see the same look on his face, and adds, “I’m sorry.”

He hears Stiles get out of the car, and sees him out of the corner of his eye. He stands next to the car for a few seconds, looking confused and annoyed, and oh, _fuck_ , Derek is an idiot. He _knew_ it.

He doesn’t even give Stiles a chance to close the door. He just drives away, and the door closes itself as he drives away, leaving Stiles standing on the side of the road. He can’t stop himself from glancing in the rearview mirror, and sees that Stiles is still standing in the same place, and curses his stupidity.

He gets back to his apartment, where it’s too quiet, and puts headphones on, playing a playlist Stiles had once set up for him. He lets the music wash over him, and curls up on the couch, determinedly not thinking about how fucking stupid he is, and what he’s gonna face when he sees the pack again. He doesn’t think about the fact that he’s probably going to get a call from Scott, or the sheriff, chewing him out for what had just happened. He doesn’t think about how awkward movie night will be. He doesn’t think about the fact that he’d just messed up one of the best friendships he’d ever had.

He doesn’t think about any of that. Instead, he thinks about the look Stiles had had on his face, and he wishes Laura were there, with her advice, and her hugs, and he tries to block out the wolf, howling for _someone_.

He falls asleep long after the playlist ends, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to fix this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, as promised, the last chapter of Dive Right In posted today, beta'd by [whatthehale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) with feels and Sterek and no more pre slash. I'm not all that good at romance, so there's that, but I'll probably continue the series anyway, just because I can.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

It’s still raining when he wakes up. It fits his mood, and also reminds him that the universe hates him.

Derek knows he messed up. He shouldn’t have kissed Stiles. He’s _seventeen_ , for God’s sake. Yeah, he’s been through a lot -- he’s not a regular teenager. But he’s still just a kid. He’s young, with a sharp mind and a brilliant future in front of him and Derek -- Derek will _break him_. He knows he will. He knows it with a certainty that’s painful, that burns like a never healing wound, and he knows if he keeps poking at it, it’s going to make it worse, harder to forget when this all over.

But he can’t help it.

He can’t help the way he feels around Stiles. The _noise_ , the banishment of the silence that Derek’s been used to, since the fire, since Laura, since everything. There’s safety in that noise, a promise of something better. There’s _life_ , in a way Derek hasn’t seen before, because all around Derek has been death, and then there’s Stiles.

And Derek craves it, the way Stiles is just so _Stiles_ , all words and flailing and sarcasm, and the way he cares for the people he loves, the fierce protectiveness that Derek had seen from the very beginning, before it had extended to him. The way Stiles just gets him, in a way Derek’s pretty sure no one else has in his life. The way the date had just been easy, the way he’s able to actually talk to Stiles. How he’s never able to predict what Stiles is going to say, but he’s just glad to hear Stiles talk.

_None_ of it makes sense, and Derek doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that they’re so different, that Stiles likes to talk too much and he doesn’t like to talk at all. He doesn’t care that at the very beginning of this he’d never have guessed this could have happened. There’s so much _confusion_ here, and Derek wants to ignore all of it, because it doesn’t matter. Because _Stiles_ (Derek has learned that Stiles doesn’t just mean Stiles, it also means an emotion, and an explanation, and a lot of other things that it shouldn’t mean but somehow does).

And that sounds horribly cheesy and very like much the romance novels Derek had once smuggled from Laura’s room, and Derek’s head feels like it’s going to explode because he doesn’t know what to do.

He tries to get angry at someone other than himself, at Stiles, for his stupid lips, and his stupid smile, and the way he’d listened to Derek about Laura, and the laughter at how bad Derek was at mini golf, and way he smelled, and his hands, holy _shit_ , his _hands_ , but he can’t be angry at Stiles, because it wasn’t his fault and even pretending like it is makes Derek feel worse than before.

Which is an accomplishment, and Derek, in attempt to forget about it, gets off the couch and goes to his room, changing his clothes and putting on pajamas. He wanders out to the kitchen and makes himself coffee, and then winces, because he hears what he’s been both hoping for and dreading.

The Jeep’s squealing brakes.

It takes Stiles approximately five minutes to get to Derek’s door, and during that time, Derek considers several different escape plans. He’s pretty sure he could jump out the window and survive; he’s done worse. He could climb up to the roof, too, but it’s raining and Derek’s fairly certain that with his luck, he’d get hit by lightning.

In the end, he just sits on the couch, because he deserves whatever Stiles is about to dish out, and he’ll take it. It’s fair to Stiles, even if Derek wants to sprint out the door the second it opens.

“First of all, fuck you,” is the first thing Stiles says when he sees him on the couch. He shuts the door, and turns towards Derek, and he looks at him. Stiles looks _pissed_. He’s soaking wet, wearing the same clothes from last night, and looks like he hasn’t slept. He’s also shivering, although Derek’s not sure Stiles even realizes this. He feels even more guilty than before, and has to fight the urge to hide behind something.

“You don’t just do that!” Stiles nearly yells, and Derek winces. He’d known there would be yelling; when Stiles gets mad, he lashes out, just like everyone else, but he does it with words. Because they’re his greatest weapon. He wonders how much it would piss Stiles off for him to cover his ears. Stiles is _loud_.

“You can’t just kiss someone and not give them time to react! Jesus Christ, Derek, I wasn’t upset about the kiss! I was just surprised! You’re an asshole! You didn’t even let me explain, you just fucking drove off like I was going to chase you down with a pitchfork.”

Derek blinks, completely taken off guard by how this was going. He feels even more stupid as the words sink in, but he also feels a bit of hope. But Stiles still looks like he wants to punch Derek in the face, and Derek’s not entirely sure he would try to stop him.

Apparently Stiles isn’t done, though, because he starts again, though he’s a bit quieter than before. “You left me standing on the side of the fucking road, wondering what the hell I’d done wrong, and it wasn’t until around fucking midnight that I realized what you were probably thinking, and _fuck_ , Derek, the world may hate you for everything you do, but _I_ don’t, okay, so don’t just go off acting like you know what I’m thinking.”

He’s started pacing, and has one hand running through his hair constantly, making it stick up in ways Derek is pretty sure defies gravity and all laws of physics. The words are falling out of his mouth almost too fast for Derek to catch.

“Last night was _good_ , it was better than I let myself hope, and you don’t know how relieved I was when it didn’t completely blow up in my face, because I don’t have any experience at all in this and my brain does this thing where it likes to think _everything_ will go wrong, and when it didn’t I was excited, and I was looking forward to the next time, I was already getting ready to plan it out, and then you went and kissed me and my brain literally just stopped. It’s never done that before, but I couldn’t think, because _damnit_ , Derek, I wasn’t fucking mad, okay, I was surprised and attempting to convince myself I was awake, but then you didn’t let me explain, and fuck you.”

He’s still shivering, and as angry as he sounds, his scent is more upset than angry, so Derek takes a chance, and says, “I’m sorry.”

Stiles makes something like an angry noise, but doesn’t say anything, so Derek takes that as his cue to continue.

“I just -- I got overwhelmed, and my mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. It wasn’t logical, it wasn’t fair, but I -- I couldn’t take being rejected, okay? It -- That would have -- I couldn’t have taken that. Not right then. And I’m sorry to put you in this position, and I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain, and I’m just sorry.”

Stiles is looking at him now, really looking at him, and he doesn’t look angry anymore. Just upset, in a way Derek’s never seen him before, and he hates that he brought that out of him. He forces himself to meet Stiles’s gaze, and doesn’t flinch away, even though he really, really wants to.

Stiles breaks eye contact first, and he looks at the floor. His fists clench, and his entire body tenses for a few seconds, before Stiles relaxes, and he looks up again.

“Next time, _ask_ me. Or at least wait for me to start talking. God knows I do that enough.”

Derek blinks, almost too afraid to breathe. Because that sentence started with _next time_ , which implies there will be a next time, and Derek doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but that means Stiles is willing to give it another chance, and Derek wants it. Badly.

Stiles’s scent is almost back to normal, although Derek can tell he’s still upset. He’s still shivering, though, and that’s starting to worry Derek, because Stiles is human, and he’s soaking wet.

“You’re shivering,” he says.

Stiles looks surprised for a second, before looking down at himself, at his soaking wet clothes. “Oh. Yeah. It’s raining. I fucking hate rain.”

Derek heads down the hall to get Stiles a towel, and tosses it at him as he comes back. He feels distinctly backwards as he goes to his room to find something for Stiles to wear, and it takes him a couple of minutes to realize why: it’s like what Stiles had done for him the night of the anniversary. Rain and all.

He snorts as he comes back out, and Stiles gives him a curious look.

He shrugs. “My life is full of irony and cliches.”

Stiles gives a huff of laughter at that and goes into the bathroom to change. When he comes back out, Derek says, “Are you hungry?”

Stiles blinks and nods, so Derek goes into the kitchen and turns on his radio as he makes them some grilled cheese sandwiches. Stiles leans on the counter and watches him, but he’s quiet. It feels weird, and awkward, and Derek wonders how long it’ll take for them to back to the way he’d been. Because he misses it, and he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to take this weird silence.

He passes Stiles a plate with two sandwiches on it, and sits down at the table with him. Derek finishes first, and watches Stiles eat. When Stiles is done, Derek clears his throat and says, “Why do you hate rain so much?”

Stiles looks at him, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Derek want to bite his tongue, something like grief, and Derek remembers that Stiles is young, but he’s lost family, too.

“You don’t have to answer,” he says, but Stiles shakes his head.

“It’s kind of stupid,” Stiles says. “But -- the day my mom died. It was raining. And now every time it rains, I think of that day. She used to love the rain. We...we would go outside when it was raining, and we would sing and dance. Sometimes we’d get my dad to come, too. And now I can’t see rain without thinking of her, and how much I miss her.”

His voice is barely audible by the end of his sentence, even for a werewolf, and he looks utterly drained. Like he’s being hit with emotions he doesn’t have the energy to deal with.

Derek knows how that feels.

“That isn’t stupid,” he says, and reaches out a hand, putting it on Stiles’s arm. He doesn’t know what else to say, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because Stiles seems to come back to life, and he looks up at Derek.

“We should kiss again,” he says. “But we should both agree that the last one didn’t really count. We don’t want our first kiss to be surrounded by negative feelings.”

Derek just looks at him for a second before saying, “You’re right, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Ever.”

He’s rewarded with a small smile. “I’m serious. We have bad enough luck as it is. Starting out with bad feelings will just make it worse.”

Derek raises an eyebrow and says, “Uh, if you’re sure…”

He would have said more, but it’s kind of hard to speak when you’re kissing someone. Stiles’s lips are as soft as they’d been the night before, but they’re more active today, and Derek feels like a balloon is swelling up inside of him. Because he’s _kissing_ Stiles. There’s an electric feeling that shoots through him, and he’s grinning when he finally has to pull back.

Stiles is grinning, too, and says, “So, we’re in agreement, right?”

“Right,” Derek says.

“Let’s not mention the kiss last night to anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Lydia will probably get it out of us anyway.”

“Probably.”

“Fuck.”

“Yup.”

Stiles probably had more to say there, but Derek doesn’t let him speak. Kissing is a good way to shut him up. Derek makes a mental note for later. Right now? He’s focused on other things.


End file.
